


Rivaille's Secret

by nerdynovak



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, No Name AU, Singer!Levi, but like he takes no shit from anyone as per usual, eren is a straight up fanboy, fan!Eren, i guess?, levi is a singer yay, levi's name is a secret shh, no smut lol soz, non-binary hanji, petra needs more love, this is the most cliché shit ever tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdynovak/pseuds/nerdynovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is intrigued by a certain boy in the front row with a brilliant smile and holding up a very...unique sign.</p><p>[basically inspired by a halsey gifset I saw of her stealing a fan's kiss-ginity]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivaille's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> yes levi in leather was absolutely necessary

"These brats can't possibly be more interesting than the last, Hanji," I sigh, pushing the fan mail into their chest. 

I say the same line at every show we book, but somehow they find a way to make me feel guilty. They flash those disheartened puppy dog eyes, and a small quiver to their bottom lip, and I cave every damn time. 

"Damn it, just put them in my ca—" I don't get to finish because Hanji squeals and pushes me against their chest with frightening strength. 

"I knew you cared, Rivaille!" 

They pull back with a wink and skips off with the garbage bag filled with soppy love letters and, no doubt some frilly pink thongs. 

I roll my eyes, turning my attention back to the lady who now has to re-comb my hair, since a certain lunatic decided to show a very un-rare display of affection. 

"Rivaille! On in ten!" 

Erwin, my co-production manager alongside Hanji, calls my way with a clipboard in hand and spins on his heel, pressing a finger on the bluetooth in his ear, arguing with someone on the other end. Probably Hanji. That bitch is miraculously destructive. 

"I need a fucking aspirin."

Not twenty seconds later, "here you are, Mr. Rivaille."

"That was a figure of spee—actually, thank you, Erd. You need a raise."

I down it and lean back in my chair as the lady layers the gel in my hair. 

My name isn't really Rivaille. Well, technically it's my middle name, but that's beside the point. Nobody here except for Erwin, and by extension Hanji, knows my actual name. 

At first, it was for privacy. I started out on the streets, and it was a dangerous place out there. That's where Rivaille was born. Honestly, it wouldn't make any difference if I disclosed my real name at this point, but a close advisor told me that it was potentially an album seller. 

Apparently, the mystery surrounding my name is one of the most popular trending tags at any given moment on Twitter. So, it remains that way. Not that I care. It's actually pretty nice. My personal life is invaded 24/7, so it's refreshing knowing that something as huge as my first name is still just for me. And a few close individuals, but again, off track.

"It's time, Mr. Rivaille." Petra scuttles up, ready to guide me to the stage entrance. 

"Alright. Lead me there, since I could never find it on my own," I say dramatically, looping an arm through Petra's. 

"Very funny, sir," Petra giggles half-heartedly, but I can tell by the harsh bags under her eyes and her messy bun that she is beyond stressed. 

I hand her my water bottle and her eyes widen. She shakes her head violently. 

"Sir, we're going to be late—" 

I cut her off. "Bullshit. There's no way I can be late. They literally can't start without me. Here, take a drink. Breathe. God, you're practically shaking like a damn chihuahua." 

Petra nods, breathing shakily and takes a small—well shit, she drains the bottle and throws it behind her, hitting the poor hair lady in the back of the head. 

I remind myself to recommend a few raises to Erwin. Once I can remember her name, of course. 

"Good? Good. Let's go." I rub my face and adjust the tight leather clinging to every inch of my body. I specifically request that no makeup ever be placed anywhere on my body, but I growl a bit as I feel the wetness of mascara on my eyelids. 

How the hell do they do that?

We separate at the entrance, and I take a mic from some random worker and give the cue. Here we fucking go...wait, fuck. Where are we? Ohio? Washington? Wait, no, that was last show. 

The music starts and I curse again. Oh, well. I put on my signature smirk and step out onto the overly huge stage, belting out the first words to the opening song. 

I almost can't hear myself over the mind-blasting screams, and a couple more panties are thrown in my direction. I should have more women's underwear by now than Victoria herself.

Thankfully, my fans pull through, and near the front was a sign that read 'Illinois <3's Rivaille.' 

Right. "How the fuck are you, Chicago?" I scream, pointing my mic to the audience. 

And the crowd goes wild, even more if that was possible. But I doubt there was an actual answer to my question in there.

I move to the beat, shouting a big 'screw you' to the choreography, as always. If I'm gonna get up here and belt my ass off for a couple hours, I'll do it my way. 

My eyes roam the front row, and I jump off the stage and outside of the metal gate that restricts them from climbing up onto the platform. 

Over time I have mastered the concept of singing and focusing my attention on the audience, since apparently they worship me, and I am forced to interact. Which I don't really mind as long as they refrain from molesting me, as it has happened a few nightmare-ish times. 

I reach out my left arm and meet a couple sweaty palms as I stroll down the front row, giving a couple winks here and there and squeezing some hands. 

Near the middle of the escapade I come face-to-face with striking emerald green eyes. I raise my eyebrows and he grins brilliantly. We don't get many guys in the crowd, let alone the front row. 

My eyes drift to the sign he holds above his head.

'Rivaille, will you be my first kiss?'

I laugh out loud, switching off the mic and placing it in my pocket.

"That's pretty daring," I almost yell over the noise.

He looks around and then back at me with a confused look, as if to say, 'you talking to me?'

"Yes, you. Now put the damn sign down and get over here."

His bright eyes almost bulge out of their sockets and the couple people who had somehow shoved their way in front, made way for him. 

Yeah, my fans are great. 

"Uh, you don't have to...I wasn't really expecting you to—" he stutters, running a hand nervously through his disheveled hair.

"Blah, blah, blah. You're blabbering." I catch his wrist and lead it to rest on my hip. 

"Right. Got it," he breaths a laugh.

I tilt his chin down with a hand and pause an inch in front of his face, noticing that he isn't a hot and sweaty mess like the rest. 

I quirk a smile as his arm tighten around my waist. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I speak into his ear. 

"Since I am taking your kiss virginity, I think I should at least get a name."

The boy's breath hitches. I lean back, searching his face.

"It's Eren," he said mischievously. "And yours?" 

I chuckle genuinely. "Quite a catch you are, Eren." I roll his name off my tongue, avoiding the question.

"Can't say I didn't try," he shrugs. 

"Enough talk. Ready?" I lick my lips unconsciously. 

"Not at all."

Good. He leans down first, and I let my palms rest on his face, tracing his cheekbones. Wet lips meet mine, talented and soft as they move in sync with my own. 

He sucks on my bottom lip, nibbling on it without caution, causing a surprised gasp on my part. 

"Shit," I groan, my hand traveling to his hair and fisting a handful, pulling him away. 

"You fucking liar," I say without malice, tracing my swollen lips. It was obvious he had experience. There's no way that he could be so...naughty during his first kiss.

"Whoops," he grins, obviously not sorry. 

"Fuck you."

"Now that one would be a first."

I grit my teeth, yanking him in by his hair. 

"Come see me later. Tell the guard with the eyebrows that Levi sent you," I say lowly.

"Wait...is that-?" he gasps. 

"Yes, that would be me. Don't disappoint." Felling whimsical, I bite his earlobe as a warning. He groans frustratedly in response, his head falling to my shoulder.

Only until now do I notice that the crowd is screaming louder than ever before. I almost feel my ears bleed. 

"Gotta go," I detach myself and blow a kiss teasingly. He catches it and swoons, snickering all the while.

Reaching for the mic, I switch it back on and jump back on stage. 

"Sorry for the delay, guys! Actually, no I'm not..." 

I continue the show in a daze, and if I keep locking eyes with a certain bright eyed brat, then...well, maybe all the teenage girls will get the fucking hint.

**Author's Note:**

> i was imagining levi as a bit like a fall out boy style? but a lil less punk and a lil more rock


End file.
